Memory of soul, Thief of Heart
by Love From A Muggle
Summary: Life grew worse as the Second war ended,deciding to abandon everything and everyone, Draco flees to the least place possible. The Muggle World.A kind soul from his past helps him despite how he treated her. Mixed between the Movie world and books. DM/HG
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Impress Me competition by Paris In December at the HPFC forum. This is a mixture of the Harry Potter books and movies.

_For my three betas who are helping me with this story._

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><p>Disclaimer: I don't own it.<p>

For Draco, everything went downhill after the war. He was broken inside, and he knew that. He had been living on the streets in Muggle London as a beggar, and he didn't care. He had run away with nothing but the clothes on his back. He was alone – completely and utterly alone. Here, no one knew he was a Malfoy. Here, his father's name wasn't a cause for shame. Here, Draco was not a traitor.

He sat in his corner with his tin cup, begging day after day. He reeked of vomit, sweat, and urine. He smelled as though he had not taken a bath in a long time, which was true; his blond hair was dirty, his once pristine shirt was no longer white, and his jeans were torn and muddy. People passed him in the streets, ignoring him. At night, he hardly slept. Draco shivered. It was turning from late September into early October. He shivered again; it was then that Draco knew snow was coming, but as to when exactly, he didn't know. His days on the streets had made him lose track of time.

A click in his tin cup let him know that some kind soul gave him money.

"Thank you," he said.

His years on the street taught him to be polite to those who showed they cared. He never glanced up at anyone, due to his pride. He heard the person come back to him. 'Odd,' he thought, 'that never happens'.

"Merlin's beard! Is that really you, Malfoy?" The voice reminded Draco of someone, but he couldn't figure it out. He looked up and squinted his eyes to see who it was.

She stood there before him, wearing a light blue long-sleeved day dress that fitted her perfectly. Time had been kind to her. Her rosy cheeks and pale skin complimented her dress. Something was different about her though.

"Is that really you? What happened to you?" she asked him again, bending down to his level.

"Granger?" He noticed her hair wasn't curly anymore. She had straightened it. She almost looked like the sort of girl he would have gone for once. Almost.

"Come on, I'm not letting you spend another night on the streets." Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders. He didn't try to push her off. He was cold, he was tired, and he was hungry. He also longed for a bed.

Hermione took Draco to an empty alley and together they disappeared to her flat, once in her flat then she told him to sit down at the kitchen table. She went to her spare bedroom, which she kept clean for company, and pulled out a clean long sleeve button up blue shirt, and jeans she hoped would fit him. She came back to him and handed them to him.

"What's this for?" he asked glancing at it.

"If you want some beef stew, you need to shower." She smiled at him.

He noticed her teeth were smaller than they were when he aimed a spell at her in their fourth year. He didn't speak to her, but accepted the clothes, and headed to the bathroom. Draco shut the door once he entered. He took off his dirty clothes and watched them fall to the floor. He then turned on the shower, waited for the right temperature, and stepped in, closing the curtain behind him.

How long had it been since Draco had a shower? He didn't know. He closed his eyes letting the steam from the shower overpower him. He remembered a lot when he closed his eyes. His moments danced between horrible ones where he felt alone, and the few good ones with his mother. His parents divorced right as his father was sent to Azkaban after the war. His mother had received everything in the divorce, including Malfoy Manor. However, she hated the place it had become to them. They had been treated as badly as house elves. Draco realized how important it was to be kind to house elves now, after going through what they had suffered.

He went for the bar of ivory soap after opening his eyes. He didn't want to remember the past, but sometimes it haunted him. The soap felt good on his skin. He watched the dry dirt fall off into the tub. After the soap rinsed off, he relaxed before doing his hair. The water felt good against his skin. The only water that ever touched him was rain water. There was something different about a shower though. The feeling of relaxation flew through him as he rested in the shower. His eye-lids grew heavy as the shower overpowered him. He drifted off to a horrible memory.

_He screamed so loudly, and still no one stopped. Yaxley and Dolohov were holding him back. Others crowded around him watching the Dark Lord poke the fire. Voldemort then took the burning iron from the fire place, saw it was good and hot, and turned to Draco. Evil poured through his veins and showed in his eyes which were fixed on Draco. _

_"Do you see this, Draco? Iron so hot, it will leave a mark on one's skin. Come here, Lucius," he ordered. Draco's father stepped towards their leader. _

_"Take this – I want to watch you put the mark on your son. It is to show others they must obey me or pay the consequences," Voldemort hissed. _

_"I hate you! I hate you! Go to hell, Lucius! I hate you, Bella," Narcissa suddenly cried out._

_"Bellatrix take your sister out. She is not one of us," Voldemort ordered. Bellatrix ran to her sister, put her arms around her and forced her away. Narcissa fought against her sister. She looked over her shoulder, and screamed for mercy. She started crying as she was forced out of the room. _

_Draco was scared. He heard his aunt talking to his mother. "Your son should be proud. This is a big honour," she hissed as Voldemort shut the door with his wand. _

_"Now, back to business," Voldemort nodded at Lucius. _

_His father took the iron, hands shaking with fear. Draco knew his father had no idea Voldemort would hurt his son. Draco stared into his father's cold eyes. For a second, he thought his father would stop. His father showed no sign of stopping as Draco's heart started to race(Revise). He felt the color drain from his face. He pleaded with his eyes, begging his father to stop. His father ignored his son._

_"Father, no!" Draco fought the Death Eaters holding him back. Yaxley punched his face to stop Draco from wriggling. Blood trickled from his eye where he had been struck, and Draco to cried out in pain._

_Lucius closed his eyes and opened them again. _

_"Do it now, Lucius," Voldemort encouraged his follower. _

_Before Draco could blink, he felt the hot iron against his skin. He screamed, closed his eyes, and felt it burn. The iron hissed angrily against his skin._

He was brought back from his memory when he almost slipped in the shower from the water. He was pleased when his mother announced they were getting a divorce. He hated his father for turning their home into hell. His father had cared more about pleasing Voldemort than caring for his family. At one point, Draco had wanted to join the Death Eaters to be close to his father, but fate had other plans. He turned against the idea, and ended up fighting for his freedom and lost. Draco glanced at his left arm hating the mark that was forever burned onto his skin.

He remembered where he was when the cold water fell upon his skin. Draco opened the curtain, grabbed the towel; wrapped it around him, stepped out of the shower and stared in the mirror. Memories like the one he just had made him hate his father even more. He was glad his father had been sent to Azkaban. It was where he belonged. Dressing quickly, Draco ran his towel through his hair to dry it. He stared at himself again in the mirror for a long time. He had aged with time. Not as nicely as Granger, but he had aged. He now had a beard around his face, which he couldn't stand. He hardly recognized himself in the mirror. Hating how he looked, he turned off the light and left the bathroom after hanging up his towel.

Author's note: Thank you so much to my three betas who helped me make sure grammar and punctuation were correct. Thank you Slytherin Head, Mi Hi-Lover and Paper Pearls. Thank you for your time and patience with me.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco joined her quietly in the kitchen. She was getting two white bowls down from her wooden cabinet, placed them carefully down on the stove, and then carefully, she poured the soup in the bowl and turned to him with one bowl in her hands. He accepted the bowl, but as he did their fingers touched momentarily, each feeling the softness of each others skin. He looked away from her, and placed the bowl down on the table gently. He then picked up the other bowl instead of having her hand it to him, he placed it down in front of her, and then sat down himself.

"What, you can't pull a seat for a lady?" she asked teasing him. He showed no sing of understanding the tease, or wanting to reply so she sighed and sat down herself.

They ate in silence, not really knowing what to say to each other considering that they had been enemies at school. Her mobile vibrated on the counter next to the stove. He looked up, and noticed she ignored it, within seconds it stopped vibrating.

"When did you get a mobile?" he asked.

"How do you know what one is?" It rang again and she ignored it.

"Muggle Studies, and living on the streets," he replied taking a bite of the stew. He chewed quietly savoring the flavor of the beef and greens and gravy combined. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he tasted home cooking.

For a third time that night, the mobile vibrated for a few seconds and then stopped.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" he asked as he eyed it ringing again for a fourth time.

"No, it's mum." She stood up, took her bowl to the sink, rinsed it and picked up her mobile. She groaned. He eyed her suspiciously as she fiddled with the mobile.

"I should have never taught Ronald to use a mobile. He saw me with one and was obsessed with mine, so I showed him how to use it the correct way."

Draco choked on his food, he picked up a white napkin and then wiped his face from the mess he made. "Ronald? You mean, Weasel?"

"Ron, not Weasel, you know he always hated that name," Hermione said as she put her mobile back down.

"I know, it was fun seeing him react to it every time," Draco replied. "Are you dating him now?" He knew she would never answer him, but wanted to ask anyways.

"Sort of," she replied. The mobile rang for a fifth time and she jumped to it, she held her finger up to her lips to tell him to be quiet, and answered.

"Ron, I can't make it tonight. I'm sorry, but I'm busy," she replied.

"No, I'm not coming over. It's late and I just want to stay home. Yes, everything's alright." She hung up the phone, glanced at Draco and then turned back around not wanting him to see tears in her eyes.

"No, "Good-bye" or "I love you"?" Draco asked, watching her expressions change in an instant.

"Now you're getting personal," she said taking his bowl. He looked at her as though he wasn't finished with the conversation. She eyed him, and then the sink, she decided the dishes could wait till the morning, and turned her back to him.

He could tell she didn't want to talk anymore so, he went to the living room with out saying another word to her. He knew she wanted to be by herself. It wasn't long before she joined him with a glass of wine. He never pictured her as one to be a drinker, but figured she was the type who wanted one every now and then.

He stared into the empty fireplace which reminded him a lot of his empty heart. The black that etched the fireplace was like black hatred that filled his heart. He had never loved anyone before, and never planned to. No one showed him love but his mother. He fell asleep thinking of how the world was so cruel. He had hoped things were going to be better once the war was over, but they just got worse.

_Draco walked among the rubble of the Castle. He had finally found his parents and clung to his mother's hand like a small toddler. He saw bodies everywhere, but he dared not to look at them too closely, in fear of finding familiar faces. He smiled when he saw Goyle standing before him. _

"_Mother, I'm going to talk to him, go find Father," he said softly. He knew his father ran off, in fear of being captured. _

"_Goyle, are you okay?" he asked his lifelong friend. Something had changed inside his friend. Goyle was not okay and he could see that._

"_You got him killed. " The harsh accusations attacked Draco's heart as his face fell._

"_I didn't get Crabbe killed, he was the stupid one who tried Dark Magic," Draco said defending himself._

"_You're the one who taught it to him. Admit it Draco, you didn't like how he was getting all the attention from the Carrows and you wanted him to suffer. Well, guess what? Now you're going to suffer. Everyone's turned against you. Your crown is gone. You are no longer the king of Slytherin anymore. Go to hell, Draco. " Goyle's anger showed in his face as he clenched his fists tight. _

"Draco?" her voice brought him back from the nightmare. She was kneeling before him, gently waking him up.

"Are you alright? You fell asleep," she asked him. He sat up suddenly aware of where he was again, as the blanket she had just placed on him fell off as he sat up.

"I was dreaming again, wasn't I?" he asked as rubbed his hands over his forehead. He was tired, he could tell he looked tired. All he wanted was a bed and a pillow at that moment.

"Again?" He forgot she didn't know of his first memory.

"I'm sorry, I've just been flooded by bad memories ever since I came here. I don't know why. Don't get me wrong, I am happy you are kind to me, considering how horrible I treated you,..." He paused as she took the opportunity to step in.

"I have to admit you were an arse. Especially when you didn't help us in your home. You're not the only ones who has nightmares, Draco," she replied standing up after realizing how close their faces were to each other. "The spare bedroom's bed is more comfortable than the couch if you want to sleep there tonight."

"What nightmares do you have?" he asked, even though he already knew. It was then when he knew he wanted to learn more about her, especially her nightmares.

"That is private," she replied. He saw the look of fear in her eyes and wondered if there was anything he could do to make her not be afraid anymore.

"Hermione, you don't have to worry about me. I'm no longer the person I was when we went to school," he tried convincing her, but wasn't sure if it was working.

"So you do know my name," she replied with a half smile.

"Yes, I do. I only called you Granger out of habit. After all you said my name a few moments ago," he said standing up, he crossed his arms.

"I have to go to sleep, I have work in the morning," she replied. She paused, and folded up the blanket she had just set on him seeing how he wouldn't need to use it anymore.

"Why were you on the streets?" she asked him. She knew he wasn't the type to run away from his problems.

Draco's grey eyes stared at her with out knowing how to respond back to her. It was as if he knew why, but didn't want to speak it out loud. If he spoke it out loud, it would make him a coward. He knew the truth was scarier than any lie he could think of. It was because he was afraid. He didn't want to face the world after his father had destroyed their family name so he did the only thing he knew at the time. He ran away. Deciding to ignore her question, he asked her a question, hoping small talk would steer him away from what he was hiding.

"Where do you work?" he asked.

"The Ministry. You better get some sleep, you're going to need your rest. Tomorrow, we're giving you a second chance," she said walking towards her bedroom.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It all belongs to JKR. **

**Author's note: **With this chapter and story, I am mixing the Harry Potter movie world with the Harry Potter Book world. With this story, I feel that some parts from the movie world should be in the books so I combined them. Also, mild language is used in this chapter.

_For my faithful readers, especially **those who leave reviews**. Thank you so much!_

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><p>Hermione heard a noise in her living room around three in the morning. Standing up, she grabbed her wand and went to the room. Red hair turned around facing her. She closed her robe tighter around her as she found it hard to believe that he really broke into her flat.<p>

"Ronald! What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?" she asked, startled. She gripped her chest, she was surprised to see him standing before her as she caught her breath and stared at him with an angry look.

"Well, when you talked to me on the phone tonight I got worried. I had to see if you were alright," he said putting his wand down on the table. He gave her a look of caring, as she gave him an even angrier look.

"I'm fine, but this is not an hour I need to be awake. You know I have work in the morning," she said crossing her arms. "What are you doing breaking into my flat anyways?"

"I know, Hermione, you know how I feel about you. How I have to protect you after what happened with the war and all," he said coming to her. He ignored her question about breaking in.

"Ron, I don't need protection. I've been doing fine all my life." Her right hand automatically went to her left. The word 'Mudblood' was still etched in her skin. She shivered, not because she was cold, but because she was thinking of that horrible night when she was tortured. He stared at her arm. She knew he felt guilty. Every time she saw him look in that direction, she could tell in his eyes.

"I know you do, Hermione, but you broke off a date tonight. We were trying to see where we are headed as a couple. Hermione, we are all worried about you, come over on Sunday. Mum and Ginny miss you," he offered. He placed his arms around her. She thought she felt safe in his arms, but something was missing. He could tell something was missing, just by how she hugged him. It was as if he was the only one who was hugging, and she was tense when he held her.

"I don't know. I really needed a break from the wizard world which is why I moved back to the Muggle world," she said not giving in.

A noise from the hall made Ron let go of Hermione instantly.

"Hermione, I think someone's there. Don't move," he said grabbing his wand.

"Ron, it's fine," Hermione said standing in the threshold of the hallway, blocking Ron from getting close to who was behind her. For the first time in years, Draco was nervous. He stood behind Hermione unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Hermione, move," Ron shouted, getting angry. He aimed his wand at the person behind her.

"Now, wait Ronald. I can explain," she started saying as she stepped aside.

"Bloody hell. Is that Draco Malfoy? In my girlfriend's apartment?" he said feeling his face hot with hatred.

"Girlfriend?" Draco said stepping beside Hermione. He glanced at her.

"You're dating Weasel?" Draco asked, looking hurt. Hermione had lied to him tonight, but he didn't know why. Something did not add up right, and he had to know the truth.

"I was, I don't know. I'm not sure. It's all so confusing!" she said throwing her hands up in the air. For some reason Draco did not find that funny like he thought he would. He felt a tug in his heart. Wait, had just twenty four hours made him fall for Hermione? He shook his head, impossible. Perhaps the tug in his heart was because she lied to him.

"What do you mean not my girlfriend?" Ron's voice cracked as he spoke as if he was trying to hold back tears. He lowered his wand.

"Ron, I've been meaning to talk to you. I don't like how you call me your girlfriend when I hardly see you except for when I'm at work, and you're visiting Harry," she said crossing her arms.

"If it's because of that bastard, I'll kill him." Ron started walking to Draco, but Hermione stepped in front of him.

"No, Ronald, it's not Draco's fault. Listen, he has a history. He's hurt, and needs some help," Hermione tried reasoning with Ron, but was failing.

"He's tricking you. He's the same damn person he was when we grew up with him." Ron's face continued to burn with a mixture of hatred and anger.

" Why do I feel that I always need to explain myself to you? I shouldn't have to Ron."

"So you 're standing up for him? Since when were you on first name basis with him?" He threw questions at her expecting answers.

"You're being unreasonable," she stated.

"I'm being unreasonable? HERMIONE, you're the one not thinking clearly. I thought you were smart." He regretted saying the words as they came out, he saw she was upset when her eyes grew angry and full of tears at the same time.

"Get out of my flat, now," she replied.

"'Mione, look, I'm sorry," he said.

"NOW!" She pointed to the door.

"Can't I Disapparate here?" he asked gripping his wand.

"NO!" Eyes filled with tears as she watched him leave.

She turned to Draco, didn't say a word and retreated to her bedroom slamming the door. Draco stood in the threshold as he heard her cry. He shook his head. He hated it when women cried. Deciding there was nothing he could do, he went back to bed.

She didn't stop crying till four in the morning. Draco could never sleep knowing there was a woman crying somewhere. He fell back asleep after knowing she was asleep. Five minutes to five, he awoke again to muffled cries coming from her room. He opened he door, rushed to her bedroom, knocked once, and entered. There she was tossing and turning in her sleep. She kicked the air a few times, called out something he couldn't catch and then turned over.

"Hermione?" He knew he shouldn't wake someone up from sleep, but hated to watch her suffer from the memory. He walked quietly to her bed.

"Help us Draco!" He heard her call his name, he froze. He automatically knew what she was dreaming of. His home, her torture, but he never remembered her calling his name. The power of a dream could be overwhelming he thought. He shook her awake lightly.

"Hermione?" She sat up seeing him sit next to her on her bed, moved close to him, fell into his chest, crying.

He didn't know what to do but sit there. He had never had a woman cry into his arms before, and as he sat there he looked down at her taking it all in. Her hair was frizzy again due to her sleeping. She clung to his shirt, using it to wipe away her tears. No one spoke for what felt like hours. She finally stopped crying and still didn't move. He moved his arms around her, not really giving her a hug but hoping he made her feel safe. She felt his muscles tighten due to nerves.

"You talked in your sleep," he said finally after thirty minutes of silence. He watched the red number on her alarm clock flipping to five thirty.

"I did?" she questioned sitting up. He released his arms around her.

"You said my name," he said looking away from her.

"I did?" she repeated.

"You asked me to help you. I have to know, were you dreaming of my home?" he asked looking back to her. She nodded slightly.

"My nightmare," she confessed. He nodded knowing the answer already.

"I dream about it too. Mother sold the house. I no longer live there," he confessed finally.

"Is that why I found you on the streets?" she asked.

"No, I chose to go there. I ran away. Couldn't face the real world anymore."

"I ran away too. Fame overpowered Harry after the war. Ron followed in his footsteps. They've changed." He eyed her for her confession was not something he was expecting.

"Figures. No wonder Weasel was over-protective tonight."

"He means well," she said leaning back in her bed against her bed rail.

"Really? Threatening to kill someone because of years of hatred bottled up doesn't sound like meaning well to me," he stated, then added. "but it's not my relationship so I'm not getting involved."

"There isn't a relationship. He likes to think we're going to get together, but I'm not sure if I want that. I know we kissed during the war, but honestly it was spur of the moment for me." She blushed.

"You kissed him?"

"Yeah, he mentioned house elves needing to flee Hogwarts before the war started."

"It is important to treat them with kindness. I realize that now." He could see a question forming in her eyes and answered before she could ask. "I was a slave in my own home, Hermione. Treated worse than house elves. My nightmare." She nodded understanding.

"I never knew that."

"No one did. All the anger and hurt from home, was unleashed at school. It was where I felt I was finally in control of something." Another long pause came in between them. But this one felt like they were finally understanding each other. He breathed in, feeling a little more relaxed about being in the company of one he thought he hated. He knew he understood how she felt. They had a lot in common and it surprised him.

"I should get some sleep. I wake up at seven am and it's already five-forty-five," she said looking at the clock. He stood up from her bed, walked to the door, and then turned around. She was already back under her covers.

"Hermione?"

"Hmmm?" she said sleepily.

"I'm sorry for being such a prat to you," he said as he walked out shutting her door.

He never knew how much one person could understand him till their talk. He walked back to his room and went back to bed, hoping for sleep.

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